Butterflies and Dragon Flies

by Marilynn Halas on November 6th, 2011

            If we could have it our way, our little ones would never know the pain, sadness or fear of losing someone that they love.  Grandparents, siblings and especially parents would always be there with hugs and support and most of all love.  The thing is, of all of life’s experiences, the one thing that is a guarantee for each of us, is that we die.  We can pretend it’s not real, or that everyone dies at a ripe old age, (there is no consensus on what age that might be, ninety-nine year olds often feel that one hundred is too short), but the truth is, death is usually a surprise that happens too soon.

 

I believe that life is changed, but not ended and love lives on.   Last year, my dad died in my arms after a long struggle with cancer that ended in a ten-day trial of endurance, agony and finally freedom.  I saw miracles in each day.  There was fear transformed into grace.   Pain turned to healing and sorrow turned to joy.  In every way, mine and my dad’s lives were changed, but not ended.

 

Even now, as I write this, I wonder what is too personal to share.  My beliefs are personal and I lived them in a most intimate and fundamental way during those final days of my dad’s life.  Dying is a profoundly personal experience.  It’s not about the way we wish things were, it is supremely about the way things really are.  We are to each other what we always were, for better or worse; that is how it starts.  Then comes the journey.

 

I was given the honor and gift of caring for my dad at home with my mom.  It didn’t seem like much of a gift at the time.  Corporal care is hard work and his dignity and privacy remain precious to me even now.  He died with courage and he moved from denial and fear to acceptance and even joy in those last days.  It was my privilege to accompany him as far as I could on his journey.  He died in my arms on a Sunday morning.  I sang him “Amazing Grace” and he just closed his eyes, (I guess he was relieved to get away from my singing.)

 

My dad’s last words to me came the night before.  While he could still talk, he looked at me and said, “Love you, Darling.”  I love him too.   Still do, that’s the thing about love, it lives on.  I wanted my children to know that, but in the days before my dad’s death, I was with him, about 75 miles from my own family.  My kids knew, Papa, as they called him, was on his way to heaven, but even when you know it’s coming, death is a surprise.

 

I knew I couldn’t shield them from it.  This is not like the goldfish you can replace while they are at school and hope they won’t notice; and even if you could get away with it, why?  This was a chance to help my family through the one experience they will have to deal with over and over again, guaranteed.  I don’t want them to live in a macabre foreboding of their own demise. But neither do I want them to live in fear.

 

So, how do we help our children understand and cope with a topic that makes many people so uncomfortable, they avoid even the living people who are going through it?  Enter the butterflies and dragonflies.  Beautiful examples from nature that perfectly explain our understanding of what happens when a person dies.

 

Caterpillars are pretty happy bugs living in the leaves and eating all day.  As far as they know, it’s a good life and they like it.  Then one day, their caterpillar bodies know it’s time to rest inside a cocoon.  All the other caterpillars may be worried about that or they may feel like it’s a good idea, but either way, the caterpillar’s life is changing.  A little while later, the new life is ready to begin.  A new creature pushes through the cocoon veil and lo and behold, this is not the worn out caterpillar anymore.  What emerges is a new and winged butterfly that soars in the sunshine and sips nectar from the flowers.  This colorful creature may look at the other caterpillars and feel love, but I doubt there is any butterfly that wants to go back.

 

The same thing is true of dragonflies.  They begin their lives in the murky water where they can see the sun, but never quite feel its warmth.  They know no other world and so, they are probably happy right where they are.  Then one day, their time under the surface is over.  They might be afraid, but it doesn’t matter, they simply must rise.  The immature dragonfly pushes up and through the water.  As it breaks the surface for the first time, the new creation knows two things; the universe is much bigger, warmer and colorful from up here and there is no going back.  We’ve all seen dragonflies skimming the water, but they will never again dive below.

 

For me, it’s helpful to think about dying like that.  It is a change we will all go through and for those of us left behind, we don’t know what comes next.  We fear the unknown and that’s natural.  Death is natural too and it is what makes life so precious and worth celebrating.

 

I hope I get the chance to tell my kids I love them in the moments before I die, but just in case I don’t, I want my life to show them that love is real and lives on.   I want to teach them that death happens and that they are still safe and not alone in this world.  I want them to know, from a very young age, that we do not fear the dying.  We should comfort them, not avoid them, because there will be a time when we are them.  I want my kids to understand that life is changed, not ended.  Whatever we were to each other, we still are.  Love lives on.   Life is precious and joy is worth finding.  I want my time here to show them a life well lived and a job well done.

 

Think about what you want your life to say.  Life is short, no matter how long we live.  Life is full and busy and scary and fun and that is not only okay, it is cause for celebration.   I hope and pray my life will be one big “Love you, Darling,” to my family and my world.  What do you want to say?  I hope you get to say it with your words and with your life every precious and joyful day.

 

May you keep your face to the sun, so all the shadows fall behind.

 

Marilynn

More Tricked than Treated

by Marilynn Halas on October 30th, 2011

            Farmers plant in the spring, they tend their crops all summer long and look forward to this time of the year as a time of harvest.  Imagine their surprise if when they dig up the potato patch, looking forward to buttery mashed potatoes for dinner and instead, found only turnips!  Pounds and pounds of unexpected, unwanted and undeniable frustration.

 

Life can be like that and life with little ones is like that more often than not.  This weekend was supposed to be about Halloween costumes, candy and creativity.  We planned ghost stories and get togethers and nights filled with parties and fun.  We planned for days, or even weeks to get our kids ready, class parties supplied and candy baskets full for the coming wave of trick or treaters, but guess what?   This year is more trick than treat.

 

The Nor’Easter has knocked out power all over New England and parents and kids are scrambling to stay warm, dry and even have some fun.  We planned for leaf peeping and pumpkin picking, but we got high winds and wet snow.  Nine inches in my backyard!   Hundreds of homes with no electricity, heat or running water and utilities companies that offer no more comfort with their words that with their inability to deliver electricity.

 

Here’s what we do have.  Choices.  We can grumble about closed roads and cold homes, or we can open our doors and our hearts to our neighbors who need help and show our kids and remind ourselves what we’re made of.  We came through this after Hurricane Irene and we will come through this Halloween Nor’Easter.  Just think, now we have our very own scary stories to tell.  We have The Case of the Mystery Meat defrosting the back of the freezer.  We have The Tale of the Missing Mittens disappearing in the drier.  We have the Legend of the Night the Lights Went Out in Suburbia. 

 

We will still celebrate Halloween, maybe not exactly as we planned, but with just as much energy and enthusiasm.  (At the very least, it will help us keep warm.)  Maybe Mother Nature’s trick, is actually a treat in disguise.  It’s all the way we choose to see it.

 

Happy Halloween and keep you face to the sun, (that way it will be warmer).

 

Marilynn

Be a Bonfire, Not a Candle.

by Marilynn Halas on October 23rd, 2011

            Mother Theresa said, “Intense love does not measure, it just gives.”   She understood parenthood.  Parents give and give and give some more.  They sacrifice as a matter of course and not only do they do it, they do it willingly.  It’s not easy to do and we all grumble and sigh wistfully when we think of how life used to be when we were the center of our own universe, but the truth is, at the end of the day, we wouldn’t change a thing.  In fact, we are grateful for the chance to do it all over again tomorrow.

I recently heard a beautiful description of love.  Love is warm and gives light in the darkness, just like candlelight; but just like a candle, we can consume ourselves in sharing the light.  I believe the more we give our love away, the more love we have to share and I also believe we need to take the time to replenish ourselves throughout the experience.

It’s no use to anyone to burn brightly, or even at both ends and then consume ourselves to the point of extinction.  I think a better metaphor for parenthood is the bonfire.  It gives light and heat to many and it is sustainable.  Bonfires must be fed, replenished and nurtured in order to keep burning bright.  Candles give a little light for a little while.  Bonfires give warmth and light to many people for as long as the fire is fed.

Parents are in it for the long term.  We need to be sustainable and wide reaching.  Therefore, we need to be sure to replenish ourselves.  It’s not a matter of being selfish; it’s a matter of being self-sustaining.  We are no good to anyone if we burn out.  Taking care of ourselves sets the example for our kids on many levels.  Eating right, exercising, being life-long learners, taking measured risks, reaching and striving sends the message that parents are real people with real needs and deserving of real respect.  How can we expect society to value parenting as a true vocation when we are so willing to ignore it ourselves?  Until parents treat themselves with kindness and respect, it will be hard to expect others to value what we do.  From unsympathetic bosses, to those who roll their eyes when we bring our kids into a nice restaurant, people have to be educated about what parenthood demands and the indisputable contribution it makes to make this world a better place.

Let’s give ourselves a break and permission to be human.  Let’s remember that we are a part of the family we care for and put ourselves on our own “to do list”.  Our lights will only shine brighter and give more warmth when we feed the fire.  Take some time to do what you love and share your passions with your family, as they grow older and more able to join you, but don’t abandon yourself in the meantime.  You are more than the sum of what you do for others.  You exist, you are enough and you are worth nurturing.  Ask yourself if you would want your child to live the life you are living when he or she is a parent.   Unless the answer is a resounding “YES!” you may need to make a change and join the family you love so much.  Join them as a full member and nurture your family and yourself.

In the meantime, keep your face to the sun and all shadows will fall behind.

Marilynn

Contained and Entertained

by Marilynn Halas on October 16th, 2011

Highchairs, pack and plays, cribs and car seats, then there are baby swings, bouncy seats and walkers, not to mention strollers, carriers and backpacks for hiking.  What do all these wonderful things have in common?  They all try to keep our babies safe and happy.  Contained where they won’t get into trouble and entertained long enough for the containment to be meaningful so that parents can have a few moments to shower, take a walk, or the holy grail of life with a baby, sleep. 

For the first few years of babyhood, contained and entertained becomes the order of the day so that the business of life can continue.  Now matter how much we treasure and enjoy our time kissing baby toes and playing peek-a-boo, (my personal favorite), there are still basic human needs that must be met for the other members of our families and even, heaven forbid, for ourselves.

Teeth must be brushed, houses cleaned and food prepared.  None of which is even possible, if at least one parent is not busy at work as well.  This would be enough to do if only parents didn’t suffer from that one pervasive characteristic that undermines the efficiency of even the best-laid plans.  Parents are human beings!  Scandalous news, I know, but it’s true.  There are even some parents who want a chance to have some time to themselves, to read, to exercise, even to reconnect with their partner.  Wow!

That’s why the contained and entertained products are so useful.  In many cases they are sanity savers and privacy protectors. (Have you ever tried to use a bathroom with an infant in your arms?)  While some of these products may not be completely necessary in every household, how nice it is to have a choice and know that if one doesn’t work well for your situation, there are literally hundreds of alternatives.  Simplify is a beautiful goal and I wholeheartedly agree, I just suggest that it can apply to the expectations as well as the baby gear we all collect.

I suggest we relax a little, embrace what works for us and helps us not only get through, but actually enjoy the experience of the early, crazy days of parenthood.    Use what works, let go of what doesn’t, even if that means some the perfection expectations we impose on ourselves.  Adjust to the new normal and remember that life with a baby is a little bit like the weather in New England; it’s always changing.

Maybe contained and entertained applies to more than just baby equipment, maybe it applies to our aspirations to be perfect parents as well.  I believe that perfection is an illusion, so it might be best to take that over-wrought superhero parent illusion and get it contained and entertained so it will stay out of our way and let us get back to the business of living in reality.  It might be the kindest thing we can do to take care of our children and ourselves.

 

In the meantime, remember to keep your face to the sun so all the shadows will fall behind.

 

Marilynn

GETTING COMFORTABLE WITH DISCOMFORT

by Marilynn Halas on October 11th, 2011

Remember that moment just before your baby was born when the doctor said, “You may feel some pressure”?  You may have thought the doctor was referring to just the next few minutes; but it is possible that there was no time limit on that pressure.  We feel pressure to provide the best nutrition, shelter and education. We sacrifice, smile and cajole our way through parenthood.  We grow accustomed to exhaustion and compromise and learn to be accepting of the human condition on a much deeper level.  We even become less judgmental and more grateful. In the midst of this, a living, breathing child trusts, loves and utterly depends on us; but hey, no pressure.

I can’t tell you how many times I have heard frustrated parents lament a situation at school, or a play date or even a family gathering that made the parent feel uncomfortable or even feel sorry for their child.  Life is unfair and what should we do when our child gets the short end of the stick?

For me, it really depends on both the setting and the frequency.  I’m all for letting a child learn to stand up for him or herself, if there is a basic level of fairness.   I’m also all for getting involved when a child is in over their head.  Only a parent can determine when to get involved, but I firmly believe that children need their parents to be ready, willing and able to advocate for them.  Learning to advocate for our children in a way that builds bridges rather than burning them is a crucial parenting skill.

At school or at the pediatrician or even at a play date, there are moments when we need to advocate for, defend and speak up for our children.  Some of the greatest growth spurts in childhood are not made by the children at all, but by brave parents who loathe confrontation, but do it anyway because they must.

Whether we simply remove our child from an unfair play date, or insist that we see a specialist at the emergency room, we are our child’s best and often only advocates.

It is our right and privilege to stand up for our children and it is how we show them that we believe, trust and love them even up to and beyond our own comfort level.  We all tell our kids we love them, but those moments of advocacy are the times we show them.  In those moments they discover our character and our priorities and it is what builds the foundation of strong and healthy relationships as they grow up.

For a teenager to know their parent has their back when they genuinely need the back up, is huge and often the difference between the courage to talk to a parent and the choice to pull away.  Knowing that your mom or dad believes you are someone worth standing up for is the highest approval a teen can get in a world that often disrespects their whole generation just as a matter of principle.

So, here we are, under pressure and getting comfortable with the discomfort, standing together and standing up for what we believe in and the ones we love.   I think that may be the greatest legacy we leave our children.  What about you?  How do you decide when and how to stand up for your children?  Let us know.

 

In the meantime, remember to keep your face to the sun so all the shadows will fall behind.

 

Marilynn